


You're Stuck in My Mind

by raven_with_a_writing_desk



Series: Can't Get You Out of My Head [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek's in third year, Fluff, Human AU, M/M, Mentions of Scott/Allison - Freeform, One Shot, Stiles is in First year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 03:51:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2837048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raven_with_a_writing_desk/pseuds/raven_with_a_writing_desk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Partner fic to 'Can't Get You Out of My Head.' This is from Stiles' point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You're Stuck in My Mind

Stiles stands as the train pulls up to his platform, singing along to the song coming through his headphones. Stepping onto the train, he glances around and, seeing that there are people sleeping on that floor, heads for the stairs since there’s never anyone up there to disturb.

Stiles makes his way up the stairs, letting his voice get louder without the worry of waking up fellow passengers. It’s three am, and really he should be exhausted and sleeping like the rest of them, but after staying up until four the past three nights in a row studying for his last exam and then napping all day today once it was over, he’s pretty wired.

Entering the top level, Stiles glances around but doesn’t see anyone – although to be fair the lights are so dim that he can barely see his own feet. By now he’s singing fairly loudly as he makes his way down the aisle to see if there’s anyone hiding, but since he doesn’t see anyone he doesn’t bother keeping his voice down as he flops down in a seat near the back of the car.

Stiles sits down as the song ends, and there’s a few seconds of silence before the opening music starts on the next song, which Stiles starts humming along to as he searches through his over-stuffed duffel for his laptop.

Suddenly there’s a tap on his shoulder that nearly makes him jump out of his skin and he yelps – he definitely does _not_ scream – turning around to glare at the person behind him, taking off his headphones as he goes.

He takes a second to appreciate the guy leaning over the seat back –because hot _damn_ the guy is good looking with dark features, beautiful eyes, and muscles everywhere – before remembering he’s supposed to be angry.

“What the hell man? You scared the crap out of me!” He bites out, feeling his surprise melt into anger.

The guy just kind of stares at him for a few seconds, eyes roaming over Stiles’ body and making him feel very uncomfortable before seeming to mentally shake himself, fixing a death-glare that could probably kill a lesser human on his face. “You woke me up,” he growls, glare firmly in place and Stiles immediately feels a wave of guilt wash over him, smothering the anger.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize anyone else was up here. The top level’s usually empty during the night rides,” Stiles says before realization hits him and he starts blushing in embarrassment. “Ugh God, I can’t believe you heard me sing, _no one’s_ supposed to hear me sing.”

“Yeah, no wonder,” the other guy retorts. “And maybe you should actually check the floor before just assuming no one’s around next time,” he finishes, disappearing from where he’s been looming over Stiles, presumably to go back to sleep.

Stiles just sighs, puts his headphones back on and hums quietly to himself as he rifles through his bag for his laptop. Grabbing it, he leans back in the seat and there’s no more noise on the floor.

-

Stiles manages to fall asleep at some point while watching Captain America, waking up about half an hour before the train is due at his platform. Glancing over his seat, he sees the hot guy from earlier still sleeping there, curled up around his bag. Standing, Stiles stretches and quietly gathers his things, determined to get out of here before his neighbour wakes up and he has to endure another awkward encounter. Moving to another car (okay, maybe Stiles is being a little dramatic, but he’s really not sure he can handle another run-in this early in the morning), Stiles lies down on the first empty seat he finds, and falls asleep for the last leg of the journey.

Stiles next wakes up to someone poking him in the leg. Mumbling something incoherent, he tries to turn onto his side and promptly falls off the seat.

“Jesus, what the –“ he starts sitting up and rubbing his knee where it connected with the seat in front of him.

“Hey kid, it’s time to get off. You’ve gotta get up,” says a voice above him, and Stiles glances up to see a man in a security uniform standing there offering a hand, which Stiles takes gratefully.

“How long ago did we get to the station,” he asks, turning to grab his bag.

“About five or ten minutes ago,” the security guard says, reaching down to grab Stiles’ phone, which had apparently fallen out of his pocket when he fell off the seat.

“Five or… Shit, I need to go,” Stiles says, grabbing his phone and taking off out of the car and across the platform in the hopes of snagging a taxi before they’re all full.

Crossing the station, Stiles bursts through the doors, looking around wildly before spotting one last cab idling a few yards away. Sprinting to it, he wrenches the door open, throwing himself into the seat and gasping for breath (God he is out of shape).

Suddenly there’s a voice beside him and he freezes because he’s pretty sure he recognizes that voice.

“Sorry, this cab’s –“ the voice cuts off as Stiles turns to face the person – and yep, he was right, it’s the guy from earlier. The one who hadn’t appreciated his singing.

For half a second they stare at each other in surprise and Stiles is half-tempted to leave the cab without another word. He really does _not_ need an uncomfortable cab ride with a guy he’s already fantasizing about and who seems to hate him. But there are also no more cabs in sight and he doubts his dad or Scott would pick him up at this hour of the morning, even if he could get a hold of them.

So, before the guy can say anything, Stiles just dives into it.

“Oh my God, hey! Sorry again about earlier man, I still feel so stupid. But do you mind if I share a cab? This is the last one, and who knows how long until another one comes at this hour. Where are you going?” He says it all in one breath, hoping to get it all out before the guy cuts him off or shoves him out (the look he’s getting suggests that’s a very real possibility) and lays the puppy-dog eyes on thick – a trick he’d learned growing up with Scott – hoping the guy will take pity on him.

After a few more seconds the guy finally crumbles under Stiles’ puppy-dog stare, heaving a heavy sigh before muttering out ‘Hillcrest Boulevard.”

“Sweet that’s on the way to my place! I’m on Leland Street,” he says, turning to the driver. “Can you take me there after?”

“Sure, no problem,” the driver responds as he peels out from the curb.

Stiles leans back in his seat, letting his eyes slip closed as he breathes a sigh of relief, glad he didn’t have to hitchhike or walk home from the station. After a minute, he cracks open his eyes a bit, a small smile on his face, and glances across the seat to see the other guy still staring at him, as if trying to figure him out.

“So, I suppose I should introduce myself,” he says, turning to face the other guy. “My name’s Stiles. And yes that really is a name, before you ask,” he finishes, feeling his smile slip as the other man tries to hide a smile. He should be used to people laughing at his name by now but it’s still insanely annoying. “So, are you going to tell me your name?”

“I’m Derek,” the other guy responds, reaching across the middle seat to shake Stiles’ hand.

Stiles takes it, giving another small smile. “Nice to meet you Derek,” he replies, taking the few seconds to give Derek a once over, cause really this guy is impressive.

Glancing back up, he sees Derek staring at his eyes and realizes they’re still holding hands.  
Clearing his throat, Stiles shifts slightly. “Uh, Derek? You can let go of my hand now…” he trails off, glancing down at where Derek still has his hand captive.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry,” Derek mumbles, letting go of Stiles’ hand and turning towards the window.

They sit there in silence, Stiles sneaking glances at Derek, who stares determinedly out the window. As the silence continues, Stiles starts feeling more and more awkward and turns to say something. Clearing his throat, Derek turns towards him and Stiles completely forgets what he’d wanted to say. He can feel his mouth hanging open and he probably looks like a fish but he feels like his brain has short-circuited. When Derek raises an eyebrow at him, prompting him to say something, Stiles is finally able to function again and snaps his mouth shut, turning towards the window as a blush creeps up his face.

Heaving a sigh, Stiles digs his phone out of his pocket to text Scott.

_Text to Scott:_

_When you wake up, you have to call me. I met, like, the_ hottest _guy in the world on the way back from school but I think he might hate me and I need my best friend to come comfort me over this._

Going back to staring out the window, Stiles jumps in surprise when the phone goes off only a minute later with a text from Scott.

_Text from Scott:_

_Okay, when I see you later you’re going to have to tell me everything. But why the hell does he hate you?_

_Text to Scott:_

_Uh, dude, why on Earth are you up right now, it’s like not even 7 am. Also, I might have kinda, maybe, sort of woken him up on the train at 3 am and then bugged him into sharing a cab with me._

_Text from Scott:_

_I have to pick up my mom from work, I used the car to take Allison on a date. And don’t worry about it. Remember when I elbowed Allison in the face in Outdoor Ed and almost broke her nose and we went on our first date like a week later?_

Stiles huffs out a laugh as he reads the text, remembering when Scott had come running up to him before lacrosse practice in grade eleven, practically crying about how he’d never get a date with Allison after he almost sent her to the hospital in a capture-the-flag incident. And then one week later he was taking her to dinner and a movie and now, three years later they’re still together.

Stiles is about to text back when suddenly the taxi slows down, pulling up to the curb.

“First stop, guys,” the cabbie calls back.

Stiles jumps at the sudden interruption, glancing towards the front of the cab and sees Derek pull his wallet from his pocket out of the corner of his eye. “Oh, don’t worry about it man, I’ll get it,” he says quickly.

“I can’t make you pay all of it,” Derek protests, glancing up at Stiles who pushes the bills back at him.

“Seriously this is right of the way to my place. Plus I owe you for not killing me on the train or dumping me on my ass when I jumped in here,” he says, blushing again.

“But –“

“Go before you drive the tab up even more,” he interrupts, offering Derek a smile and watching as Derek puts his wallet away. Glancing up, he sees Derek sitting there with his mouth open like he wants to say something, but when Stiles gives him an expectant look, he just snaps his mouth closed, opens the door with a muttered ‘thanks’ and leaves.

Stiles leans back in the seat with a groan, giving himself a moment to wallow in the regret and self-pity he’s currently feeling before the driver clears his throat, asking for the next address.  
“Uh yeah, can you take me to 125 Leland Street please,” Stiles asks before turning on his phone because he should probably text Scott back before he gets worried. But when he looks at the messages, he doesn’t feel any of the amusement he had felt a few minutes earlier, just more regret at missing his opportunity to get Derek’s number.

_Text to Scott:_

_I’m super tired and almost at my place. I’m gonna crash for a while. Come over around 11-ish?_

By the time he’s gotten a reply saying Scott can come then, the cab’s already idling outside his house as he pulls out his debit card and pays. Grabbing his duffel, Stiles says goodnight to the driver and opens the door, tripping over the curb on his way up to the house.

Opening the door, Stiles tries to be as quiet as he can so as not to wake his dad up, but stops when he switches on the light and sees his dad passed out in the chair by the TV. Sighing, Stiles walks over and gently shakes his father awake.

“Dad, hey wake up,” he says, nudging his father’s shoulder gently until he finally stirs and blinks sleep-filled eyes up at Stiles.

After taking a moment to register Stiles standing in front of him, his dad finally breaks into a grin, standing up and grabbing Stiles in a hug.

“Dad, did you fall asleep watching TV?” Stiles asks, returning the hug with just as much intensity before stepping back.

“What? No, I was waiting for you,” his dad says, stifling a huge yawn. “Couldn’t wait to see you again.”

“You are such a liar,” Stiles chuckles, making his way up stairs with his dad. “Let’s both go get some more sleep. Scott’s coming over at 11 tomorrow, we can do brunch with him,” he continues before stopping in front of his bedroom door and giving his dad another hug.

“’Night, dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, son.”

And that’s the last thing Stiles remembers before passing out

-

Stiles wakes up the next day to his door slamming open and Scott shouting at him to get up. Burrowing further under the covers, he lets out a laugh as Scott jumps on the bed, pulling his covers back and dragging Stiles out of bed.

“No, I want to sleep,” Stiles groans as Scott starts poking him.

“Get up dude! Your dad’s making scrambled eggs and bacon, and he said he’ll eat it all if you don’t get downstairs now.”

“No, my food!” Stiles shouts, jumping up, grabbing his clothes, and racing down the stairs with Scott on his heels.

John glances up at the sound of feet thumping down the stairs and watches the boys stumble into the kitchen as he’s finishing the eggs. Eyeing his son, John turns back to the stove to remove the pan.

“Your shirt’s on backwards, son.”

“Well I was concerned about my food,” Stiles grumbles defensively as he takes off his shirt and puts it on properly before sitting at the table with Scott.

Grabbing the orange juice and pouring himself a glass, Stiles laughs as Scott tries to grab a piece of bacon from the plate John’s bringing to the table and gets his hand smacked for the effort.

“Wait until we’re all seated,” John says, grabbing the plate of scrambled eggs and bringing it to the table.

Breakfast passes quietly, all three of them too ravenous to have time to talk. After a while, their eating slows down and finally stops, all of them stretching out and groaning at feeling too full.

Finally, when they’re all able to move again, they stand up and start clearing the table and cleaning the kitchen.

“So, boys. First semester of college done! How’s it feel?” John asks, grabbing the dishes out of the drying rack and putting them away.

“Like it couldn’t come soon enough,” Scott responds from where he’s putting away left overs.

“Hey, you can’t talk, you finished a week ago. I’ve been stuck at school without you, trying to concentrate on studying for a whole week. It was horrible,” Stiles finishes with a shudder.

“Stop being so dramatic, Stiles. How are you ever going to survive three and a half more years?” John asks, laughing at his son’s antics.

“I’m not. I’ve decided to drop out and work at Starbuck’s forever.” Stiles manages to hold a straight face for all of one second before completely losing it at the horrified expression on his dad’s face. “Oh my God dad, I’m kidding! I’m not going to drop out.”

Scott and Stiles both laugh at the look of relief that passes over John’s face before he manages to get his expression under control.

“Well that’s good. Now you two go catch up while I finish up here,” he says, waving them towards the stairs.

“Dad, we saw each other literally a week ago, when Scott left,” Stiles reminds him even as he’s walking towards the stairs.

“Yes, and I think that’s the longest you two have been separated since you met. You’re probably both deprived of each other’s company. Besides Stiles, you need to unpack and I know you won’t do it unless there’s someone to keep you on track.”

Stiles just sticks his tongue out at his dad because he has nothing to say back. He _had_ missed the constant companionship of studying with Scott and wanted a chance to tell him about Derek. Plus he knew his dad was right about the unpacking. Stiles was such a procrastinator when he wanted to be.

“Don’t worry, John. I’ll make sure he does it,” Scott says, grabbing Stiles by the arm and dragging him upstairs before Stiles can protest.

Entering Stiles’ room, Scott pushes him towards the bed before closing the door and sitting on Stiles’ wheel-y chair.

“So, what was that all about this morning?”

Stiles just groans and falls back on his bed, letting his head hit the wall with a soft thump.

“Ow.”

“You’re an idiot. But tell me about this guy. You didn’t explain yourself very well.”

Stiles heaves a sigh before telling Scott the story of how he’d woken up Derek, kind of started fantasizing about him, and then had to share an awkward cab ride home with the guy.

“And I didn’t even get his number,” he finishes with a dramatic groan, throwing an arm over his face.

“Was he interested in you too?” Scott asks from where he’s sitting.

Stiles lifts his head to glare at him but flops back down when Scott lifts his hands in surrender.

“Yeah, he definitely was. I mean, on top of not murdering me in my sleep or shoving me out of the cab, he was blatantly checking me out. Like, multiple times. And he got sidetracked when talking to me at least twice. _And_ he kept blushing and got all flustered when he was leaving. It was really cute. So yes, definitely interested. And yet neither of us have each other’s numbers. I don’t even know his last name! I can’t even Facebook stalk him!”

“Well, I assume he lives here, right? So you might run into him sometime during the break. We could ask Erica to keep an eye out for him at work –“

“No!” Stiles shouts, bolting up in bed. “Don’t you dare tell Erica, I will never hear the end of this. In fact, don’t tell any of them, because I do _not_ want to deal with that!”

“Okay, okay, I won’t tell them. Jesus dude, calm down,” Scott says, leaning back on the chair. Glancing at his watch, Scott sighs and rubs a hand over his face. “Look, I have to go home and get ready for work. You gonna be all right?”

“Yeah, but… I thought you start at four with me?” Stiles asks, sending Scott a confused look.

“I was supposed to but Erica needs me to cover the last two hours of her shift so she can go on a lunch date with Boyd. I don’t really want to work from two until ten but now she totally owes me so I didn’t complain too much,” Scott explains as he stands and heads to the door. “Anyways, I’ll see you in a few hours. Try not to fall into a pit of self-pity while I’m gone,” he finishes, laughing at the non-committal grumble Stiles makes in response.

-

Once Scott leaves Stiles lies on his bed a bit longer, allowing himself to wallow in his regret for a while before he gets bored and heads back downstairs in search of his father.

He finds John back in his armchair in the living room watching television, but he looks up when Stiles enters the room.

“Hey, I was wondering when you were gonna come down. Did you fall asleep again?”

“Nah, just enjoying the fact that I’m completely free for the next two and a half weeks and don’t need to worry about any schoolwork. What are you up to?”

“Laughing at the incompetence of CSI: Miami. Wanna join me? Or do you want to watch a Christmas movie?”

“Definitely a Christmas movie. I can only handle so much of that show before I want to push a pen into my eye just for something else to do.”

John just laughs, getting out of his chair and moving over to peruse the collection of DVDs in the cabinet. “Do you want to watch Rudolph, Home Alone, or Miracle on 34th Street?”

“Rudolph. Miracle on 34th is for Christmas Eve dad, you know this,” Stiles says, moving over to the couch and sitting down.

“Yeah, I know but I love that one. The scene with the Dutch girl gets me every time,” John responds as he puts Rudolph in and they settle back to watch the movie.

-

After the movie, Stiles eats a late lunch before heading out to work.

Getting there, Stiles lets out a low groan. The place is completely packed, and yeah he’s not really surprised because both the college and high school kids have just finished and everyone’s now home for the holidays with nothing to do. But still, it means he can’t moan to Scott about never seeing Derek again even if that would probably end in Scott killing him and hiding the body. Scott’s a great friend with a lot of patience but even he can only take so much before he snaps.

Stiles weaves through the crowded store, almost tripping over feet and bags several times before finally making it to the back door leading to the ‘employees only’ area.

“Hey Stiles,” a voice says and Stiles glances over to see one of the other employees standing by the crappy microwave, waiting for something to heat up.

“Hey Danny. Has it been this busy all day?”

“It started getting busy about an hour ago and it’s just been getting worse. Watch out when you go out there. Isaac looks like he’s one spill away from killing someone and Scott almost cried over Lydia’s order earlier,” Danny responds, turning to grab his food out of the microwave as it starts beeping. “Thank God I just came on break. Half an hour of sitting here and laughing at your misfortune is exactly what I need,” he continues, sitting at the small table as Stiles puts on his apron and nametag.

“Ugh, I am _not_ looking forward to working a six hour shift. How much more time do you have left on your shift? Wanna switch,” Stiles asks eagerly, causing Danny to laugh.

“Not a chance man. I’ve been here since noon and I only have four hours left. I do _not_ need to be here until ten. I have a date tonight,” he finishes with a slightly smug look.

“Nice. Is it anyone I know?”

“Probably not. He’s a year younger, still in high school. He works at the library and I went in there a few days ago and we hit it off. We’re going out to a late dinner and a movie.”

Before Stiles can respond, Isaac sticks his head in the room, and, spotting Stiles, hisses, “get the fuck out here! We’re being overrun,” before disappearing again.

Stiles just sighs and heads out the door Isaac had appeared through to the sound of Danny laughing behind him.

-

The next few hours are insanely busy and Stiles actually manages to forget about Derek for a while as he runs around filling drink and food orders. Finally, after a while it dies down again and Stiles takes the chance to lean against the counter and catch his breath. Checking the clock on the sidewall, he immediately feels relief wash over him when he sees that it’s already eight and time for his break.

“Haha, see you later suckers! I’ll be back in half an hour,” he says smugly, walking back through the door to the break room.

Rummaging through the fridge, he finds the left over eggs and bacon he had brought for dinner and sticks them in the microwave, stifling a yawn as he waits for them to heat up.

As he’s sitting down to eat, the door opens again and Danny walks in, taking off his apron as he goes.

“Heading out already? You sure you don’t want to take the rest of my shift?”

“Hm, work another two hours or go on a date with a super hot, _younger_ dude. I don’t know how I’ll decide,” Danny says with a laugh as Stiles sticks his tongue out at him.

“Come on dude, you only have a six hour shift. I had to do a full eight hours. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get home and change for my awesome date.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Stiles responds with a roll of his eyes. “Good luck though. Hope it goes well.”

“Thanks. ‘Night, man.”

“Yeah, good night.”

-

By the time Stiles gets back out front, there are even less people in the café than before, and no one’s standing in line waiting to be served.

Another half an hour goes by with the three of them working – or at least Stiles and Scott pretending to work while Isaac does it all and glares at them – before Isaac’s shift finishes and he heads out.

By now it’s nine and only Stiles, Scott, and a random couple are left and the boys finally have some time to continue their conversation from earlier.

“So… you doing any better?” Scott ventures hesitantly, worried about upsetting his friend again but also scared to let Stiles deal with this alone if it’s still bothering him.

The other boy shrugs, not turning around from where he’s busy fiddling with the napkins. “I don’t know. I mean, I’m probably never gonna run into him again, but I still have that small hope saying ‘what if,’ you know? I just feel so stupid for not getting his number,” Stiles finishes, hitting the glass display case containing the baked goods, causing the couple to look over curiously.

“Well, there’s no need to take it out on the baked goods,” Scott says in a teasing voice, getting a small laugh from Stiles.

“Yeah, I know. I’m just frustrated. I don’t really wanna talk about it anymore though. It’s just making me even more upset.”

“Okay,” Scott says with a nod. “Let me know if you want to talk again, though.”

At Stiles’ nod, he grabs the broom and starts sweeping the café, getting ready for closing time.

The next hour passes quietly. The couple leaves and a few more people come in but no one sits down. As time passes Stiles gets bored of the silence and turns up the radio, singing along in a terrible voice that makes Scott laugh. At ten, Stiles lets out a relieved breath, happy to officially be closed for the night. He and Scott only have to finish cleaning and they can leave.

Stiles is busy organizing the cash register when he and Scott hear the bell jingle from the front door opening, but neither of them bother to look up as Scott calls back that the Starbuck’s is now closed while Stiles completely ignores the person, electing to keep singing along with the radio instead.

A few seconds go by and the bell doesn’t ring again to signify that the person has left, so Stiles finally decides to say something. “Dude, we’re closed. You have to –“ he cuts off mid-sentence as he glances up and sees who’s standing in the doorway. “Oh my God,” he says softly, feeling his eyes go wide with shock. Scott still hasn’t turned around, seemingly oblivious to the sudden change in events.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re singing is horrible?” Derek asks, grinning at Stiles who still can’t quite believe that Derek has somehow found him.

“Yeah actually, some asshole told me just this morning on the train. Thankfully he also agreed to share a cab with me so that made it up,” Stiles responds, finally starting to get over his surprise and fighting a smile himself.

“Mmm, well maybe next time you sing loudly, you should make sure no one else is around to suffer. Especially at three in the morning,” Derek says, looking like he’s about to burst out laughing.

“Is that why you didn’t ask for my number? Because of my singing?” Stiles asks, pretending to be offended even though he’s grinning by now.

“Oh my God,” Scott says, finally realizing what’s going on. “This is the guy you told me about from the train home. Derek something. Holy shit,” he continues before glaring at Derek suspiciously. Moving closer to Stiles, he asks, “should I be concerned about how you knew where to find Stiles,” his tone suggesting he thought Derek might be a stalker.

“Scott, chill out buddy. Don’t go scaring off the closest thing I’ve had to a date since September,” Stiles pouts, shooting Scott a puppy-dog look.

“Don’t worry,” Derek says, stepping in. “I’m not a creepy stalker. My sister Cora figured out who you were when I told her your name. She’s a friend of Erica’s.”

Scott gives him a slightly surprised look before nodding. “Well then. Now that I know you’re not a stalker and probably not a murderer if you’re Cora’s brother, my duties as the best friend are done. Go have fun you two. I’ll finish closing here,” he says, waving off Stiles’ protests. “You covered for me when I stayed at Allison’s last weekend. I owe you. And we’re almost done anyways,” he finishes, pushing his friend towards the end of the counter.

Stiles lets out a huff and walks around the end of the counter into the main part of the store, taking off his apron and muttering thanks to Scott as he passes. Walking over to Derek, he hesitates a moment before reaching out for his hand and tangling their fingers together. Feeling Derek squeeze his fingers rather than pull away makes warmth bloom in Stiles’ chest and he can’t help as his smile widens into a full grin again before turning and leaving, Derek at his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Second part is done! Hope you enjoy. Please feel free to send me prompts or come talk to me on Tumblr at avengers-avenging-shit. Happy Holidays!


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